


Blades are For Skatin', Ya' Dingus

by snow_dodecahedron



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Friendship, Gen, I just got inspired, ISU Grand Prix of Figure Skating, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Platonic Relationships, crushing on straight girls, i have no idea what im doing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:15:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27236362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snow_dodecahedron/pseuds/snow_dodecahedron
Summary: Based on an old Tumblr post..Leighton goes to a small school in northern Minnesota where most of the daily conversations consisted of hunting, fishing, or football. Unfortunately for her, she wasn't interested in any of those things. She'd much rather keep up with figure skating or the latest meme trends or video games. With the Grand Prix series just around the corner, Leighton was counting down the weeks to the first event she could watch.Imagine her surprise when Yuri Plisetsky, Olympic medalist and one of Russia's top figure skaters, shows up in her class. And it's Leighton's job to make sure he passes his classes.(Title and description are subject to change.)
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov & Yuri Plisetsky, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	1. Well, I'm Dumb

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic is based on [this](https://skygemspeaks.tumblr.com/post/157153215578/you-know-running-in-the-same-vein-as-yuuris) old Tumblr post by SkyGem. It's from 2017. But I'm bored and the inspiration struck.  
> There are probably some timeline discrepancies, even if we go off of the 2016-17 timeline, and definitely some weird slang use, but I don’t care. It’s fan fiction, so ya’ll better deal.

Junior year, a new kid joined the class. Normally I didn’t care too much for the new kids. I wasn’t “popular” in the typical sense, as in I knew a lot of people but I wasn’t friends with them, so I figured I would meet them eventually while they got swept up with all the outgoing kids trying to be their friend. 

I wouldn’t normally bring up the fact there was a new kid, as it would become old news soon enough, but this time it was different. 

When I first saw the blond teenager sleeping in the back of the science room, our first class of the day and my least favorite, I paused to marvel at how well his hair looked before ignoring him. It didn’t even occur to me that I might know this kid. 

“Hey, Gina,” I asked my friend, one of the only friends I had, as I pulled my notebook and folder out of my bag. “Do you know the new kid’s name?”

Gina took a second to finish reading the sentence in her book before replying, “No. He looks kind of intimidating, doesn’t he?”

I spared a glance back at him. Besides his pale skin and bright blond hair, he was dressed almost completely in dark colors. He wore a tiger print jacket over a black shirt that advertised a rock band I couldn’t make out. Black sweatpants were tucked into dark combat boots with a design of the Russian flag on the sole. His hair covered half his face as he looked down at his phone. He glanced up and made eye contact with me and I quickly turned around.

The kid looked vaguely familiar. Had I met him somewhere?

“I mean, I guess.” I shrugged, flipping through my notebook to find our assignment from the day before. “I’d say he’s more… pretty/punkish?”

Gina sent me a glance, which caused me to laugh quietly. “Like, in general. He looks kinda gay anyway. I don’t think he’d appreciate me simping after him before I’ve even met him.”

I have a masterful gay-dar. I’ve only been wrong a few times, but I’m usually pretty close otherwise.

Making a noise to show she understood, Gina kept reading her book quietly. 

“Good morning, Leighton!” Ainsley Burke waved at me as she passed. I automatically replied out of politeness, and found myself watching her as she sat down in the back next to her step-sister.

Damn it, Ainsley was so freaking pretty.

I kept glancing back at the boy, though. I was sure I’d seen him somewhere and the feeling that this was someone important kept nagging in my head. 

Mr. Campbell walked in and immediately launched straight into a conversation about football when the bell rang. Apparently, there’d been a game the previous day and we’d won. It made perfect sense Mr. Campbell would talk about football, he was one of the coaches after all, but he made the community around the school’s team a little toxic, in my opinion. I remember hearing a boy in my class talk about how Mr. Campbell had gone to his house to talk to his parents about getting the boy to play in the starting lineup.

But after five minutes, Mr. Campbell had gotten someone to collect homework assignments and we’d gone from casual banter about football to a conversation about physics. 

Dear god, this class was so boring.

As Mr. Campbell started telling us about  _ Newton’s laws _ (so much fun!), I tried to remember the figure skating schedule. The Junior Grand Prix series was in full swing right about now, with the Senior Grand Prix series starting in late October. I couldn’t watch much. We got some coverage (We would have to pay if we wanted all of it), but I didn’t watch much because no one else really liked it. My mom “sorta” liked it, my brother only watched it when I was watching it, and my dad wasn’t a huge sports fan in general. I felt bad for watching it myself (which was stupid, because my mom did that sort of thing all the time, but whatever), so I mostly looked online and on Reddit for recaps and small videos.

I wasn’t a skater, but I loved watching it. Even though I lived in northern Minnesota, I’d never actually skated on the ice, though I was a genius at not falling on it. I’d always wanted to skate on actual ice at an actual rink, but renting was too expensive and I didn’t want to force my parents to bring me if they weren’t interested.

It was like that sometimes. Well, actually it was like that a lot. I’d be more active in winter sports if my parents had the money or were interested, but neither of those things usually applied to the things I like. Oh well, YouTube and Reddit will have to do. 

Halfway through Mr. Campbell’s lesson, his class phone rang. There was a quick, “I’ll send them down,” which meant either someone was leaving or they were going to see Mr. Lindquist, the dean, or Mr. Johnson, the principal. I was curious as to who it was, though I was always curious. 

“Miss Roth, Mr. Plisetsky.” I looked up sharply as Mr. Campbell paused.  _ Me _ ?  _ Plisetsky _ ? Who in the world was ‘Plisetsky?’ “Mr. Lindquist would like to see you.” 

A small ripple ran through the class as I stood, followed by the blond in the back. Had he even been paying attention to the lesson? He looked like he didn’t care, which was typical. 

“Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble,” Mr. Campbell said as I got the pass he quickly finished signing. He said it mostly to get the class to calm down because I, Miss Perfect Rule Abiding Leighton Roth, was being asked down to the office. It was probably nothing, I told myself, but I kept remembering everything I muttered a swear around Mr. Lindquist, or anything that could be even vaguely rule-breaking. 

Despite what my classmates still thought, I wasn’t perfect. They still assumed I was that gifted kid they were all compared to in elementary school. While I still had a high GPA, my grades weren’t nearly as consistent and I wanted them to be as I cared less and less about just about everything. Science was my worst grade because I actually didn’t like it, while the others were manageable. I didn’t mind, as long as they stayed above C’s. If they got lower than that, my mom would start guilt-tripping me or something along those lines. 

I recognized the boy’s name, Plisetsky, too. It finally hit me as we stepped out in the hall, and I suddenly felt very small as an Olympic medalist and top Russian skater followed behind me. 

He looked a lot more intimidating in person. Gina was right. Yuri certainly looked like a force to be reckoned with, looking down on everyone even though he was only a couple inches taller than me.

Rather than say something (I probably couldn’t if I wanted to), I stayed quiet and walked to Mr. Lindquist’s office with Yuri Plisetsky, a major competitive figure skating force, trailing behind me on his phone.

Wait, if Yuri was here… He didn’t switch coaches after Yakov, right? That meant Yuuri Katsuki and Viktor Nikiforov were in the state, too. Oh dear lord, I was going to have a heart attack. 

Even if they were both retired, Yuuri and Viktor certainly left a mark on the figure skating world. Viktor was still the most decorated skater to date, especially after managing to coach and compete at the same time. They’d ended their professional skating careers at the same time after Viktor proposed to Yuuri  _ on the ice _ (It had been amazing), and took up coaching Yuuri together after Yakov Feltsman’s health scare. 

Why in the world would they be up here? This school sucked (student-wise; the teachers were great) and the nearest ice rink was in a totally different town an hour away. 

Unless someone managed to open the old rink on the outskirts of town. But that place had been shut down years ago and was set to be destroyed soon. 

“Good morning, Leighton, Yuri,” Mr. Lindquist greeted us as we stepped into his office. His door was usually open, so I hadn’t bothered knocking, and he was already expecting us anyway. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” I replied, smiling as I stood in front of Mr. Lindquist’s desk. “How’re you?” Mr. Lindquist had always been nice, but he was nice to everyone. Before becoming the Dean of Students and the Activities Advisor, he was a social studies teacher. I never got him as a teacher because he’d changed jobs my seventh-grade year, but he was nice to the rest of us all the same.

“I’m doing well, thank you.” Mr. Lindquist looked between Yuri Plisetsky and me. I stood stiffly next to Yuri, who looked bored, as the feeling of being overshadowed hit again. “Have you had a chance to meet Yuri yet?”

“Uh, no, but I already know who he is.” Damn, that sounded creepy. “I keep up with figure skating.” Not so creepy. 

Yuri Plisetsky raised an eyebrow in my direction, but continued looking bored. 

“So you know he’ll probably miss a lot of school due to his competitions.” Mr. Lindquist looked genuinely surprised that I kept up with figure skating. I nodded in reply, having an idea as to where this was going. “We don’t normally do this kind of thing, but I would like you to keep Yuri updated on whatever you did in class that day, give him notes, homework assignments, that kind of thing.”

Exactly where I thought that was going. “Um, if you don’t mind me asking…”

“Go ahead,” Mr. Lindquist invited.

“Why couldn’t the teacher just keep him updated?” This was probably a stupid question, but it was worth asking because I was busy enough as it was. 

“Your teachers are already quite busy on a regular basis, but it was actually Yuri’s guardians who asked it to be a student making sure Yuri stayed on top of his school work.” Before I could say anything after, Mr. Lindquist answered my unasked question. “You had the highest GPA in your class last year, after Edward, who, as you probably know, transferred schools, which was why your teachers suggested you be the one to help Yuri. But if you don’t want to do it, we can always ask someone else. Don’t feel pressured to agree if you think it will be too much.”

Oh, I certainly feel pressured to agree, since I’m probably the only person in this entire school who actually knows who Viktor, Yuuri, and Yuri are.

“I’d be happy to help!” I replied quickly, probably too quickly. I should’ve thought about it more. I should’ve asked more questions. 

“Thank you, Leighton.” Mr. Lindquist looked relieved. “You can go back to class. Yuri, we still have a few things to go over.”

Yuri made a small acknowledgment, still watching me with a heavy glare as I left. 

As soon as I was out of Yuri’s range of sight, I felt relieved. I didn’t want to look stupid in front of Yuri Plisetsky. Who knew what he already thought of me, judging by that glare and the way he seemed to hate everyone. 

While I was honored my teachers thought I’d be a good candidate to help Yuri, part of me slowly started to regret the decision as I walked back to Mr. Campbell’s physics class. I had extracurriculars and a GPA to worry about. There were colleges to look into and classes to take. At first I’d been happy our school allowed you to graduate with your entire or most of your Associate's degree, but now I thought maybe I’d bitten off more than I could chew. I do that a lot. 

Oh well. Too late now. Might as well wait and see. 


	2. Everyone Hates Yuri Plisetsky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To put it simply, Yuri Plisetsky was just an easy person to hate.

It had taken a week for everyone in the school to hate Yuri. 

At first, it was just the usual group of boys. They were mildly racist and homophobic, but only if you questioned their political views. If you didn’t bring up any of that stuff, they were pretty decent people, for stupid teenage boys. They’d talk in homophobic and racial slurs, mocking Russian accents behind Yuri’s back, but the most I’d ever do was glare at them. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to punch all of them so hard in the face their skulls caved in, but I had a reputation to think about. If I got suspended for assault, I’d go on my school record and make any good colleges less likely to accept me. 

But it would feel hella good if I could.

Yuri mostly ignored them, since they never said anything to his face, but I could tell he was holding himself back. 

I shared all my classes with Yuri, except band. P.E. was one of the classes I didn’t like but enjoyed sometimes. The first day Yuri had P.E. at Pinewood High School, we were playing floor hockey. Since this was a super competitive game (everything was super competitive), I just walked around the gym with Gina. No one wanted us on their team anyway, since we sucked at basically everything. 

It was different, however, for Yuri. It had apparently been assumed on Yuri’s first day that he was a sporty person, which was technically true, but not really. Our P.E. teacher picked favorites again, which I didn’t really mind, so the captains of the respective teams were both athletic people.

One of the first students chosen from the ragtag class of eleventh, tenth, and ninth graders was Yuri Plisetsky. Bad idea, if I’m being honest. 

“I’m not playing,” Yuri said in his accented English. I half-expected someone to say they couldn’t understand him, but everyone just looked stunned that Yuri flat-out said he wasn’t interested. I’d been standing in the back with Gina, and I looked to Mr. Anderson, the P.E. teacher, trying to gauge his reaction. 

All of the athletes looked bummed as Yuri went to stand against the wall. 

“Oh, right, you’re  _ that  _ kid.” Mr. Anderson made a mental note and waved it away. “Peterson, chose the next one.” 

The look on everyone’s faces was priceless, but Yuri ended up having to walk with Gina and I anyway. 

“I’ve been called ‘Leithton’ before,” I recounted to Gina as we walked around the gym, watching as other students ran back and forth with hockey sticks, shouting loudly. Every once in a while, I flinched when someone shouted too close to us, but that was about it. “I think they just misspelled my name, though.”

Gina glanced back at Yuri, who was texting as he sauntered behind it. Occasionally he’d glance up and narrowly avoid being hit in the head. 

“Is he just going to follow us?” She asked hesitantly. “Should we try to include him in the conversation?”

“No,” Yuri replied without looking up. 

“Well, there’s your answer.” I still felt nervous around Yuri, and that feeling wouldn’t go away for another week or so. I went right back to what we were talking about without a second thought. “My brother, meanwhile, was called ‘Drycole’ in kindergarten.  _ That  _ was funny.”

Ever since the fiasco in P.E., people have been trying to get Yuri to play sports with them, but he always turned them down. I was still surprised no one had even bothered to look him up, though that might seem a little creepy as I thought about it. This made Yuri unpopular among all the sports-orientated kids. 

Day by day, people generally hated him more. His bored tones, the extensive swearing, the ignorance to the teachers. Mind you, there were plenty of people who ignored the teachers, but certain teachers the students respected more than others, so when Yuri blew them off too, it bothered them. 

To put it simply, Yuri was just an easy person to hate. 

Even Ainsley, who normally managed to find the good in everyone, was unsuccessful in trying to make friends with Yuri. Anytime she tried to talk to him, he brushed her off just like he did the teachers. 

I knew Yuri wasn’t a bad person. He was probably stressed out. He’d moved to a totally new place in the U.S., he was a part of a long-distance relationship with his boyfriend, Otabek, and it was probably a pain to be speaking in English all the time. By Friday, I wanted him to be in a better mood. I knew he wasn’t like this all the time. There were ‘Yuri Plisetsky Smiling’ compilations, for god sakes. 

What would cheer Yuri Plisetsky up?

I followed him on Instagram, but if I sent him a message, there was a chance he wouldn’t see it. He probably got messages all the time. But I didn’t have his phone number and it would be weird to talk to him over his school email, so Instagram was probably the best bet.

_ To Yuri Plisetsky (yuri_plisetsky): _

_ uh hi, its Leighton. I found a video and didn’t know who to share it with so here. _

[ _ https://youtu.be/tpiyEe_CqB4 _ ](https://youtu.be/tpiyEe_CqB4)

I waited a couple minutes for him to accept and chat me back, but nothing happened. He kept glancing at me the entire day, so that could mean any number of things. At the end of the day, I was on the bus when I went to send another chat only to see that he’d actually read what I’d sent him. 

Interesting. 

_ To Yuri Plisetsky (yuri_plisetsky): _

_ You’re probably really stressed so I won’t bother you too much and I know you probably think I’m annoying, but good luck with practice. I’m rooting for you this season :) _

I’d closed Instagram, not expecting a reply, but twenty minutes later, I got a notification.

_ To Leighton R (l.roth02): _

_ thanks  _

And that was it, for now at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently rewriting this fic because I didn't like it :)  
> This version of the first and second chapters will only be here temporarily.


End file.
